Welcome to Nothing
by hulucthulhu
Summary: Takes place immediately after the season 7 finale. Castiel and Dean try to survive in Purgatory. Cas also struggles with his sanity and emotions, Dean with his anger towards Cas. Sam tries to deal with the traumas of his new hunting partner Devi Boaz OC and taking out the Levi. Dean/Cas, Sam/OC. Angst, adventure, romance, emotion, violence, drama, the works. Enjoy.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note before we begin:**

I hate waiting between season breaks, and I need to start writing again, so lets just write our own season 8, shall we? okay!

I'm going to try to update it every other day. there are no non-canon pairings yet, but there may be later? I dont know. I want to keep it realistic~ so we'll see. Knowing me there will probably be some Destiel later, but for right now there is none. I'm going to try to give everyone equal time, and there will be more adventures and mishaps and scary stuff as time goes on. okay, lettuce begin. (also, good to be back, darlings. ;))

* * *

Simplicity was all he wanted.

There was no simplicity here.

There were monsters. There was a shrouded star that cast twilight until it set and then there was blackness. There were dead forests, stagnant pools, and bones that littered the ground.

Maybe things were simple here.

After all, the only thing there was to do was survive.

And protect.

"Cas, you feather brain. Where the fuck did you go?"

Isn't that what his life had always been?

Both heads snapped to a branch breaking close by. A rustling of leaves and bones.

Here alone in this tree was simple. Adding another body would be difficult. The dead tree was weak, and two non-fighting bodies in a bare tree would attract attention here. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. It's not that he didn't like Dean. He loved Dean. But Dean made things difficult. He required food, rest, patching up. And there was the vexing emotional aspect of him.

He had felt better among the bees.

He wanted to share that with Dean, tried to bring him a present that he didn't appreciate. There was yelling, and swatting, confusion, and lust. He left before Dean could do more than scold him.

He could hear Dean's heart pounding.

A deft hand plucked Dean from the ground and placed him on a tree branch. His eyes watched the panicked man comprehend what was happening. Below them, a wrath in its true form stalked below them. It sniffed the air. Stillness was part of Castiel's nature, but not of Dean's. It was the shock of it all, and the fear, it had paralyzed him. Castiel understood that, paralyzing emotions. The first week in the hospital he had just sat wallowing in his guilt. The pain, the suffering, the potential end to all humanity, betrayal of his real family consumed him. It suffocated him. He had to move eventually, when they started putting needles and tubes into him. But he occupied his mind with everything else. He couldn't think about that again, or he would stop like a car out of gas.

The wrath sniffed the trunk of the tree. Castiel was glad neither he nor Dean had touched it. It let out a gurgling growl and stalked off. They sat in absolute stillness for an hour. Two hours. After the third, Castiel turned towards Dean. He lay a hand on his shoulder. Wide green eyes turned towards him, filled with panic, fear, and desperation.

"We've been through worse."

Something snapped in Dean. From fear, to rage.

"Worse? WORSE!"

Castiel cringed, someone—something would hear this yelling.

"This is worse than Hell. This is a land of nothing but fucking monsters, being eaten and god knows what else! And you," his voice was venomous; "you unleashed those fucking leviathans from this place. And you put us in this place. Your selfish scheme not only almost destroyed the world, but now it's going to get us fucking killed. Are you happy now, Cas? Do you feel fulfilled, now?"

"No, Dean. I do not."

* * *

Crowley was wrong. This hadn't been the first time he was on his own. When Dean was in Hell. They year without his soul, before he found Samuel. Or maybe this was the first time, really.

There was no Bobby.

No Dean.

No Cas.

No Meg, as much as he hated her she had her pros.

No Crowley.

Just Sam.

He couldn't take on the remaining leviathans by himself. Without Dean. There were troves. And now there was just him.

He just stared at the spot where the last of his family had disappeared. He didn't know if Dean was dead. Or in hell. Or in purgatory. Or just locked in some cage with Dick like he had been with Lucifer.

"SAM!" the voice hit him like a brick

Kevin had been screaming at the shell shocked Sam.

"We have to get out of here!"

He thrust a machete in Sam's hands.

This was what Sam was. He was a hunter, a warrior, a protector. And he had to keep going. He looked at the tar like filth of leviathan dripping from the blade. Keep going.

"Let's get you home, Kevin."

"Finally!...and I'm—I'm sorry about your brother."

"Yeah."

Sam just walked. Slaying every levi in his path. Heads rolled, and kevin snatched them up in a laundry cart they found. It was piled high when they reached the Impala.

Dean's Impala.

He opened the trunk. There was Dean's duffle. And the spot where Castiel's coat had lain.

He put garbage bags of heads in the trunk.

He drove through the night, Kevin slept in the passenger seat, twitching with nightmares. Sam pitied him. From an honors student applying to Princeton, to a prophet of the lord. Kidnapped, tormented, witness to monsters, death, destruction. How could you go back to being normal. Sam never had the chance to be normal, but he craved it. He wish he could give it to Kevin.

He gave Kevin the machete as a parting gift.

"Practice your swing. You never know what's around the corner…And good luck getting in to Princeton."

He drove to the Mississippi. Dropping bags full of heads and cinder blocks in every fifty miles all the way up to the Twin Cities. They'd sink in the muddy bottoms and never be able to pull themselves out.

He drove back to the only home he'd ever know, Bobby's house. Which had been left to Sam and Dean. And now only to Sam.

He looked at the maps before him. Laying out a game plan. The news was full of the San Francisco "epidemic" and Dick Roman's disappearance. His marker circled SucroCorp factories as his computer hacked databases for building schematics. This wasn't over, not by a long shot.

Cut off the head, and the body shall flounder.

The body is going to suffer, and Sam Winchester was going to make sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

"Dean you need to eat, I can hear your stomach growling. We've been running for hours."

"What do you suggest, sucking some poison marrow out of these monster bones?" he gestured to a pile of bones next to the stump he sat on.

"I don't think the bones themselves are poison, Dean. They are from a vampire. But no," his hand dipped inside his ever present trench coat, "I have the honey I harvested. The miracle food. Bee's really stumbled upon something great. Full of carbohydrates to keep you going. Never goes bad. Did you know that archeologists have found honey in the tombs of pharos and eaten it? Thousands of years old, never rots."

"Fascinating, hand it over," Dean said unceremoniously. Castiel handed him one of the baggies.

"Don't eat too much, you have to ration it."

"Why? It's not like we're going to survive long."

"You don't believe that."

"No, _you_ don't believe that. You just want to get back to your happy little flower pals. Back to hiding from your mistakes some more. You want to survive so you can stew in your sorrow."

"You wouldn't be running if you didn't think there was a chance."

Dean didn't say anything. Castiel had been right. And he didn't know who he was madder at, Cas for fucking things up in the first place, or himself for not being able to resolve it. The bag of honey felt heavy in his hands. Such sweetness in a place of such horrors was giving him a stomach ache. He shoved the bag back into the angel's hands.

"What time is it anyways? My watch isn't working."

"Time is irrelevant here. There is only black and blacker, but you won't be able to see soon, the star is setting."

"Great. So what are we supposed to do? Sit here in the open, in the darkness all night and get eaten?"

"I will look for shelter," he began to step away to speed search the area.

"Wait!"

"What is it, Dean? We have no time to waste."

"You can't just leave me here. Alone. In Monsterland."

He could sense Dean's fear. But if he didn't go they risked not finding any shelter. The hunter's face was a mix of rage and fear, Castiel didn't know which he felt more strongly, fear of the rage, or pity of the fear. He himself was scared, there were things that could eat even him here. But he couldn't let Dean down. Not again.

"Right, sorry. We should..go. Come." He led the way to someplace that possibly did not exist. The darker it got, the closer Dean stuck to his side. He held a sharpened bone like a knife, and looked around blindly. They stumbled upon a stagnant pool that smelled of rotting flesh and feces. But there was a distinct echo on the other side. Castiel spotted a fallen tree trunk that could reach to the cave if pushed in the foul water. Without the angel's strength, they would have been stranded, but he pushed the log into the water, and crossed it with the grace of a gymnast on a balance beam. Dean walked sideways, cautiously and slowly.

"Sleep, I will protect you," Cas ordered as he took off his coat and cleared a spot on the hard packed floor littered with old bones, he laid the coat down and pointed.

"I'm not a fucking dog, Cas. Jesus Christ."

"Neither was he."

Regardless, Dean sat down, and slipped on the trench coat to keep warm instead of just laying on it. It smelled like honey, and the earth after rain, and the familiar smell of seat leather from the impala. It was the first comfort and the best thing he's smelled since he'd been trapped in Purgatory.

"Cas?"

"Did you hear something?"

"No, I just wanted to say thanks for the honey."

"One of us has to make it out of here, and I want it to be you, so you need to keep your strength up. Get some sleep."

* * *

Organizing Bobby's seemingly endless supply of books and information had its benefits. One being that now weapons information was cataloged, and though there wasn't a specific "bomb" section, Sam found what he was looking for.

"Doing some major work on the house I see, eh?" the clerk asked.

"Yeah, some rats chewed through the wires and the pipes are about to burst, so I figured I'd get them before they cause damage." Sam smiled like a hard working man, and he was. But not on his house.

Pipe bombs. And lots of them. He bought end caps in a different store. And rigged detonators out of the dozens of discarded EMF finders and car electronics around the Singer's Salvage yard. He had a duffle bag of clothes, and five of explosives. Different sizes, some with projectiles, some with incendiary additives. He was a fast learner, and Bobby had an alarming amount of information on crafting explosives. He was ready to take on the first plant, the closest. Minot, North Dakota was a few hours drive and he'd be there by morning. That was the first "slaughter house." Sure they weren't going to start now that Dick was gone and Sam had wiped out the higher ups in the animosity of losing his brother, there was no one stepping up to take the reigns. The news was a buzz of Dick Roman's disappearance, his family, his staff, his whole team. Gone. Sucrocorp stocks falling rapidly. Factories with locked gates, not turning out any product. What they missed was the workers locked inside. The Leviathans trying to lead themselves, one factory against the others. If he waited long enough, they'd probably just thin themselves out, but he couldn't wait. According to the notes he recovered, the Minot plant was also filled with the weakest workers. He would take them out, working his way up to the only two plants with strong enough workers to actually break out and start going cookie monster on the human race.

"Destination Reached," the GPS chirped.


	3. Chapter 3

The knock on the door jolted him awake.

"Room service!"

"Uh, um. Occupied?"

He could hear the squeaking wheel and the shuffling feet of the maid moving down the hall. He rolled over, taking the machete out from under the pillow. The clock read 1:06pm. He'd pulled into the motel at 4am after driving all night. He'd been studying the maps, going over his plan. Tonight was the night. The first SucroCorp factory was going down. He flicked on the small TV.

"In related news, the disappearance of Dick Roman and his _entire_ campaign is now being investigated by the FBI after local Police Departments from cities with Roman campaign offices reported them _all_ empty. Some 30 buildings leased in Roman's name or under SucroCorp have been found completely empty with no trace of where the employee's or residents may have gone. Searches conducted on Roman's private estates turned up no trace of the politician or where he could have gone. Some people are calling this a modern Roanoke Island. Others are calling him the world's best con man. But the one question on everyone's mind is: Where is Dick?"

In a week the entirety of the Dick Roman empire abandoned ship and holed up in the SucroCorp factories. Sam hoped they were scared. He looked at the machete in his hand, his knuckles were white on the hilt. His jaw hurt from grinding his teeth in his sleep. Dean's duffle bag on the other bed was over flowing with explosives.

His tired eyes looked at the blue prints and back to the clock. No point blowing up a building on an empty stomach.

* * *

There was low laughter. It was rough and deep. And it was coming from two people.

There is no laughing in Purgatory. Dean sprang up from the ground, switchblade in hand.

Castiel stood at the mouth of the cave with what could only be described as a mountain man. Dean shook his head. Nope, still there.

"What the fuck?"

"Dean, this is Edmund Wolcott."

"Howdy, Dean! Been a while since I've seen some friendly faces around here," he held a large hand out, his nails were long and sharp like the Alpha Vamp's had been.

Dean's eyes shifted nervously to Castiel who nodded him on, but he wouldn't put down the knife to shake hands.

"What are you?"

"Well I'm just a normal guy."

"Then why the fuck are you here?"

"I'm also a werewolf."

"Dean, his soul is not unkind. In fact he was just offering us shelter."

"Cas, of all people, you don't know a trap when you see one?"

"Now, now young man, the Angel here ain't lyin' to ya. We're way out in the boondocks, only feral monsters out here. Wolfpacks more akin to cavemen than the likes of your kind, wraths, few of the levi you and your brother been sending back. There's a city about 100 kilometers south of here, but you won't find shelter there. It's about as safe for you there as a lost dog in china."

"There are cities in monsterland? Are you shitting me?"

"No, Dean. He does not jest."

"They are more like ancient city-states or kingdoms. Walled cities that raid the outlying lands, harvest weaker monsters, and attack other cities for food."

"By food he means other monsters," added Edmund with a smile.

"Yeah, I got that. Why are you helping us?" his legs were starting to burn from standing in fighting stance, but he wasn't going to take any chances.

"Just 'cause we gotta eat other folk don't mean we have to be uncivilized. I'm one of the few that kept their sanity here."

"How'd you do that?"

Castiel chimed in excitedly, "Purgatory is opposite from Earth where isolation is bad. Here it not only saved his life, but kept him from turning into a mindless beast. Isn't that amazing?"

"Uh, sure, Cas. So Eddy, what about this whole werewolf thing?"

"Well that only happens when the star sets, and we got a few hours. I got a fortified safe room in the basement to keep me from the other lunatics out here, but you can stay there tonight, I gotta go hunting anyways."

"It's a miracle, Dean." Cas grabbed him by the shoulders, there was a faraway look in his glassy eyes, but they were filled with joy, not the usual frantic nervousness they held lately. He looked at Edmund, who was still smiling in the dim light.

"Lead the way, Davy Crocket."

* * *

KLPOP!

The chain and lock fell the ground.

For a massive corporation about the devour the world, SucroCorp needed better security. He pushed the gates open and drove the Impala inside.

He didn't want to jinx things by saying "things seem too quiet," but they did.

He felt like a kid, there were two super soakers strapped to his back filled with Borax, and a machete on his belt. He felt like he was playing Rambo with his brother in a hotel parking lot.

He fished out bombs and detonators, he'd numbered them up so he wouldn't accidently blow up the car or himself. He walked around the building. The office section, placing bombs under the pillars holding up the lobby. Around the factory outside, at the vents. Incendiary bombs at the shipping entrances.

He picked the lock of an employee entrance in the back parking lot.

The trial by fire lifestyle of hunting meant that even his large frame moved quietly and fluidly. He had a super soaker in one hand, and his other was planting bombs every few hundred feet along the twisting corridors of the offices. He just had to sprinkle some in the factory, and he could get out.

"Who the hell are you?" a voice behind him growled.

Uh oh.


	4. Chapter 4

"What kind of meat is this?"

"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer too. Just be lucky you're eating and not being eaten."

He looked at the roughly made wooden bowl for another minute before eating the stew. It tasted like venison, but there were no deer here. What kind of monster could taste like venison? Maybe a vampire, they were lean, right?

Edmund Wolcott sat down at the small table with them. They sat on cut logs and ate with wooden spoons. He poured a greyish water into a wooden cup.

"It looks and smells foul, but it's clean and won't make you sick. Boiled and filtered through charcoal. Better than nothing."

Castiel ate merely as a thanks for the hospitality, he gave Dean his ration of water, who chugged every drop he could get his hands on. The dim star was nearing the horizon and Edmund was growing fidgety.

"So, Eddy. We should probably get down into that shelter before you go wolf on us, yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. Right."

He thrust the pot of remaining stew into Dean's hands and a water skin made from some sort of scaly hide.

"There's a fire place and wood down there, but it's a small chimney, so don't build it too big or you'll suffocate."

"When will it be safe for us to come out?"

"I'll let you out in the morning."

"Excuse me? You're going to lock us in there? How do I know you're not going to just leave us in there!"

"I won't. I swear on my life. It's safer this way. If nothing can get in but me, and I don't have thumbs till morning you'll be okay."

"Dean, we have no choice but to trust him."

"No, we have other choices. That's just the polite choice, bird boy." He looked over the werewolf visually to try to tell if he was lying or not. He could probably the take Edmund out now, before he turned into a hairball with teeth, but Castiel wouldn't help against someone he saw as an ally. "Fine. You got any extra blankets?"

He led them down into the shelter and made sure they had all they would need for the night.

"See you in the morning," he said as he closed the trap door. Dean could hear the rustic locks closing, and furniture being slid on top.

"We might make it after all," Cas smiled as he set his coat, neatly folded on the cot.

"'Might' is the key word there."

* * *

"I said, "who are you?" are you fucking deaf?" the woman had a low voice, it was sultry but cruel. She had the build of an athlete but average features. Brown eyes, light brown hair, creamed coffee skin. Freckles. Cute, Same thought to himself.

Sam fumbled with one of the detonators. He didn't know which bomb it went to, could be the one right next to him, could be one outside. He could risk his life for a weak distraction, or he could try to talk his way out of this.

"Oh, the boss sent me around to do security checks."

"What boss, asshole?"

"Listen, I'm just doing my job. Go do yours and we can get things in control sooner rather than later."

"Dick's gone, this is a sinking ship."

"Says who?"

"Says the prophecies."

"and where'd you hear those?"

"A spirit."

"Excuse me?"

"Dude named Bobby told me the Winchesters killed Dick, and the rest of the Levi are drowning in their own mess."

"Who are you?"

"I asked you first."

"Sam Winchester."

"Devi Boaz."

"Hunter?"

"No shit."

"And you came to do what exactly? Take on a building full of Levi alone?"

"Isn't that what you're doing?"

"Well…Yeah. But—"

"If you say 'it's different,' I will literally shoot you right now."

"Fair enough. How do I know you're not one of them?"

He took out a silver knife, and slid the honed blade across his forearm. A line of red appeared and she did the same before him.

"We both passed. Now what?"

"You help me finish placing bombs and we blow the building and decapitate any monsters leaving the inferno."

"Sounds fun. Let's go."

He gave her numbered bombs and his cell number and they set off down opposite hallways. Sam came upon the cafeteria. For a building this size, it had to be pretty large. Though purely for show, now it held at least a hundred sleeping leviathans. He cracked the door and snuck in.

His heart was in his ears. The room smelled like tar and stale breath. They all seemed to be sound asleep, and all eerily inhaling and exhaling at the same time. He slid an incendiary grenade towards the front of the room, and set one in the middle. The last one he slid towards the back of the group, but just a little too hard. It bumped the sleeping levi.

Sam held his breath. He said the rosary in his head. A lifetime flashed before his eyes, Jess, his dad, Dean.

The levi rolled over and continued snoring. Sam still held his breath until he crept out of the door and sprinted down the hallway towards the lobby.

Devi was leaned against the black muscle car in an effortlessly cool way, but the moment she saw the hulking man running, she pulled out a machete.

"Where are they!"

"It's okay! It's okay! I was just…spooked."

"Listen, I understand it's a straight up house of horrors in there, but you gotta give a girl some warning next time you come barreling out of a factory full of ravenous monsters."

He nodded curtly and set down the bag of detonators. Devi looked at the bag like it was filled with candy.

"Can I press the buttons?" She was still staring starry eyed at the bag.

The youngest Winchester had to admit she looked pretty beautiful, if not dangerously strong holding a machete in her hands lusting over bomb triggers.

"Sure. Blow this one last, it's the one at the front door. This these are the ones for the room with the Levi, do these first."

He could practically see her drooling as she snatched the detonators out of his hands.

"Boom, motherfuckers."

The bombs sounded like music to his ears.

* * *

He watched the low fire devour the log. The blue bottom flames looked the same as the eyes that watched him.

"I can feel you staring, what do you want?"

"Nothing. I am just watching you. You're a very interesting man, Dean Winchester."

"Uh, thanks?"

"It's very much a compliment. I've seen millions of humans, but never has one captivated me like you. Your range of emotions is so large, and you feel so intensely. It's like looking through a kaleidoscope when I see your soul."

"Cas, can we stop with this?"

Castiel stood up and walked over to Dean on the stone floor and sat next to him.

"Dean, you are better than you give yourself credit for. You sacrificed yourself for Sam, and you'd do the same for Bobby or your Father any day. And I know you wont admit it, but you'd do it for me too. I've seen it in your thoughts."

"That's invasion of privacy, asshole," he frowned at the fire. Castiel made him feel things, but he didn't like to even think about that, let alone admit it. He didn't like how Cas's Vulcan mind-meld with Sammy had picked up Sam's openness about feelings. Combined with that and Castiel's inhuman personal space nonboundries, this was becoming awkward for Dean fast.

Castiel put a hand on his shoulder.

"Dean, I know."

Dean jumped up, "Don't fucking touch me! I'm in this mess because of you. All you've done is get us into deeper and deeper shit, Cas! I hate you, I don't feel a thing for you besides loathing."

Quicker than Dean could blink, the back of his head slammed into the wall, and Castiel's hand was around his throat, and his back was against the rough walls.

"Dean Winchester, do not lie to me, let alone yourself. I may love you, but that doesn't mean I can't kill you without even batting an eyelash."

"What did you just say?"

He had to have heard it wrong. The death threat was not only deserved but an average day in the park for Dean. But the other part…

Before he could repeat himself, the angel's lips smashed into his.

_reviews are welcome! thanks for reading, more to come. I'll try to keep updating regularly, but it can be hard with my work schedule. _


	5. Chapter 5

"So a spirit?"

"Isn't that what I said?"

"Yeah, I just thought we sent Bobby on."

"You did."

"Then how did you contact him?"

"He contacted me. I'm a medium."

"I've never heard your name before among hunters."

"It's not something I broadcast… I'm also a witch. So if you have any problems working with me, you might as well kick me out now."

The car was silent. The wheels thrummed rhythmically over the dark roads. She helped him, she could be of use. And it was nice to have some company. But what if she was as dark as the soulless leviathans? What if she was like Ruby? Too many people with too many ulterior motives had made him wary.

"What did he say?"

"He said he was the father of the Winchesters, but I knew John."

"How did you know him?"

"My mother was a hunter. She knew Pamela. Who knew John. I met him when I was thirteen."

"Oh."

"Was Bobby your real father?"

"He might as well have been."

"Oh."

"He told me Dick was dead. And only half of the Winchester duo was around to finish the rest of the levi off. He asked for my help."

"Why did you agree?"

"My mother and I came across a group of levi in Idaho last month. Didn't know what they were. They ate her, and turned into her. Tortured me for information."

Her face was blank, but her dark brown eyes were brimmed with tears. She looked beautiful, but he wasn't going to say anything.

"What did they want to know?"

"How many hunters knew about them. If I knew you. They had me for a week."

"How did you survive?"

"I used the knife they used on me to cut off their heads."

"That takes a lot of strength. Even for someone built like you."

"I had a lot of rage."

She sounded sincere. And like she was still pretty angry. They pulled up to a motel, they were somewhere in Montana.

"We should get some rest."

"I'm not paying for a separate room, so I hope you're not shy about bunking with a girl."

"Uhh n-no. We're both adults."

Except she had a machete in her lap, a knife in her boot, a gun in her jacket, and more rage than an untamed lion. Also he didn't know which side of the shadow her witchy powers fell. He wasn't so much shy as he was scared of her.

* * *

He tasted like honey and rain water. His lips were warm and soft, and his tongue flicked across Dean's cracked lips. That brought him back.

He shoved as hard as he could. The warm lips tore away, leaving nothing but the cold air.

"WHAT THE FUCK, CAS?"

The angel didn't say anything, but his eyes fell away. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"You..You can't do that. Not here. Not now. Not ever. We're both dudes. And—"

"Homosexuality is not a sin, Dean."

"Well I'm not a homosexual. And I can hardly stand do look at you, let alone kiss you," he spat the words at Castiel. "Do you know what it's like to be attached at the hip to someone who betrayed you? Who caused you to lose your only family left?"

There were tears streaming down Dean's face. He had his teeth barred like a wolf. Castiel's eyes were fixed on the floor.

"Yes, Dean. I do. Do you know what it's like to betray your family? To betray the people you love? To have no home? Because that's the only way you can protect them. The lesser of two evils is still evil. But I tried."

Castiel turned and walked back to the fireplace and sat down. Dean could see the tears streaming down his face. Dean picked the bowl off the bedside table and threw it against the wall, he threw the table and watched it break. He flipped the cot. He raged and raged and Castiel stared at the flames. He listened to Dean's sobs and yells. The sound of him breaking things against the wall. The sound of him punching the wall. A cry of pain when his knuckle surely broke. Eventually he ran out of things to break. There was wood splintered on the floor. The grass mattress was torn open. And Dean was collapsed against the wall. His hands were bleeding, and his eyes were red and puffy. But he just sat silent.

Castiel picked up the bowl and the water skin and walked over to Dean, who stared blankly into the distance. He was too exhausted to fight anymore. Castiel slipped his trench coat off and laid it across the other man's lap. He took off his shirt. Dean raised his eyes to this. They were wary. Castiel was lean. Not to muscled, not to soft. And his olive skin was the same shade all over. He found this curious. The angel leaned down and took the knife out of Dean's belt, and cut the bottom of his shirt. He tore an even strip off around the bottom, and put the shorter shirt back on. He sat gently, and picked up Dean's broken hand. It was swelling. But the cellar was cold, it would help the swelling. He washed the blood off in the bowl. He carefully picked splinters out with steady fingers, and nudged chips of rock out with the tip of the knife. Dean did not make a sound, did not fight or pull away. He just let the angel work. Castiel wrapped the cleaned hand. Dean wondered how the angel's shirt had stayed so clean. He set Dean's hand back down and scooted to lean against the wall next to him.

"I know you're angry with me. You have reason to be. But I did it because you're my best friend, Dean. And I'm in love with you." Dean didn't respond, so Castiel continued, "I wont dip into your mind, because that is rude. But I know you care. Even if you don't love me, please don't write me off as an enemy. You are all I have left in any world, Dean. And I'm unfortunately all you have left in this world. I'm sorry I'm not more, but I've given you everything."

"No, I'm sorry."


	6. Chapter 6

Dean has a girl's voice, he thought groggily.

Oh, wait…

He could hear the shower running and Devi singing to herself, something he didn't recognize. Light and steam leaked out from the crack under the door. The water turned off and he pretended to be asleep still as his new hunting partner stepped out in only a towel. Her creamed coffee colored skin and dark brown hair hinted at an exotic mix of parents. He wasn't going to ask, she'd probably punch his lights out, but he could certainly wonder to himself. She rubbed her long hair with another towel as she walked to her bed, he was surprised how long it was when she had it down. It reached almost to her waist. She'd had it up the entire drive. She was curvy, not the stick thin women he normally went for. She had curves, but she also had serious muscles. She picked up her overflowing bag and set it on the bed, she turned to make sure Sam was still asleep and dropped the towel as she dug threw her bag. Her back looked like Wolverine's scratching post, the marks were still a tender bright pink. Obviously not that old. The back of her thighs bore what looked to be cigarette burns, also still pink and healing.

"That's what the leviathans did to me," She said softly taking her clothes out. She slipped a pair of boyshorts on and a bra and turned to him. Her front was worse. From her hips to her the top of her rib cage, once smooth skin was marred by burns. The pink shiny skin was a shocking contrast to the rest of her. Her chest held healing deep slices, ones that dipped below the fabric of her bra. Her inner thighs had claw marks, like they had been torn apart. He couldn't hide his shock.

"How did you—Devi, I— I can't—you're lucky to be alive."

Her fingers traced the edges of the burns on her torso, her voice was so quiet and soft, it felt like a secret, "they poured lighter fluid on me. Kept asking what I knew about you until it all burned away." Her hand ran over the lines on her chest, "they'd ask what I knew about them. And cut me every time they thought I was lying." Sam lay on his bed, barely breathing; he was so horrified and angry for her. Her eyes looked at the ground, ashamed. "Every night, the guard would rape me." Her fingers ran over her thighs.

Sam sat up on his bed. This beautiful warrior was laying out her traumas to him. They might have taken Dean away, but they took away not only her family, but her safety, her body, her dignity. He never expected such an intimate moment with Devi. He could feel their relationship shift. He knew it was different now. She trusted him. And if she trusted him, he'd trust her.

"We'll kill them all, Devi. We'll make every last monster pay for what they did to you."

"Good," she replied softly and turned to dress without another word.

* * *

Castiel could hear muffled voices through the floor.

Voices. Plural.

No.

No. no. no. no.

He looked at Dean who was asleep, curled up on the pile of tattered grass mattress from his outburst the night before. He was wearing Cas' coat to keep warm. Castiel snuck up closer to the trap door.

"Angel and a human. How much do you think we could get for them?"

"Are they anyone important?"

"Castiel and Dean Winchester."

"No fucking way."

"We could buy our safety for years with one of them alone," said Edmund.

"Sell Castiel to the Vamp king of Blood Alley, keep Winchester to ourselves. I bet he tastes goooooood," the other man replied. He practically purred the last part. His voice was deep and gravely and had a slimy feeling to it.

Dean had been right, it was a trap.

"Yeah, he's probably our best bet now that the levi are sparse. Angels are fair game and rare here, we'll make a pretty penny offa him. We'd get quite the haul from Winchester too. Enough to buy us a farm full of wraths."

"farm full of wraths, or getting the chance to eat Dean-Fucking-Winchester?"

"That smarmy prick probably tastes like prime rib."

They laughed cruelly. Castiel shuddered.

"I'll head to Blood Alley to talk negotiations with King Cardin. But I need something to prove it."

Castiel heard the furniture on top of the trap door move, he rushed down the stairs. He could try to take them on, but his powers were weaker here. It'd be pointless. Dean was weak from his injury and still asleep. The door opened and Edmund's face poked down into it.

"Cas, you're awake," He smiled. "I'm assuming you heard my conversation with my associate, didn't you?"

Castiel was backed up against the wall. He gulped and nodded.

"Let's not make this any harder than it has to be, and let sleeping Winchesters lie. Give me your arm."

Edmund walked over and took Castiel's arm and sliced it with his stone knife. The blood dripped into a bulky glass bottle.

"We can all eat you here, you know."

"I know."

"Let's not tell Dean-o about this. It'd upset the poor guy." Edmund winked at him and walked back up the rickety stairs. The hatch closed and the furniture slid back over it.

Castiel slid to the ground and watched the cut on his arm close. It took longer here, he counted the seconds. 1807. Just over a half an hour.

Dean rolled over with a groan.

"Is it morning yet?"

"Yes."

"Is Eddy back?"

"Yes."

"Then why are we still down here."

"You were right."

"huh?"

"It was a trap."

"Shit," he sighed and rubbed his face.

"They're going to eat you and sell me."

"Dandy. How long do we have?"

"A day or two at the most."

"Well, we should probably get to work on our daring escape plan, shouldn't we, Short Round?"


	7. Chapter 7

He watched Castiel crouch in front of the fire he was babbling about something as he held a broken leg of the nightstand Dean had smashed into the bottom of the flames.

"I watched Neanderthals and early humans do this. It's called fire hardening; it makes the wood incredibly hard and durable. Give me your rings."

He barely heard the angel; he'd been lost in his own thoughts. How were they going to get out of this one? Castiel's butt looked really good in those hospital clothes. Why did he kiss Dean? Why did Dean want to kiss him back? Why was he even considering this? The first thing he was going to do if he survived was find a woman. What would Cas do if they made it?

Suddenly Cas was grabbing Dean's hand gently. Speak of the devil. Or rather, angel.

"Uh, Can I help you?"

"I asked you for your rings. They're silver. I'm going to melt them over the tip of the spear," he nodded towards the fire.

"Oh yeah, right," Dean tried to pull his hand away, but Castiel held on. He gently slid the rings from Dean's fingers. His hands felt warm and soft on Dean's calloused hands. He let go of the right hand and Dean thoughtlessly brought his left hand up, he watched Castiel's face as he slipped off the last of his rings. He did it with concentration, like he was performing a delicate surgery. He was so gentle with Dean, like he might break the hunter. Dean realized he'd been holding his breath watching the other man. Castiel had taken the rings, but was still holding Dean's hand in his. He looked up, and Dean saw the compassion in the deep blue eyes. "A-are w-we, I mean you, you. Are you done?" he sputtered uncouthly. Castiel let go of his hand, and walked back to the fire without a word.

* * *

"So are you a first generation witch?"

"My father was a voodoo priest in Haiti."

"Were you guys close?"

"I haven't seen him since I was eleven. I grew up there with my mom. She was one of the only hunters in the country. She and I moved here after they split."

"So where did you learn?"

"When I was sixteen I ran away while my mom was on a hunt. Went to a local Wiccan shop. I met the owner, she took me under her wing. I was there for a couple years before some rednecks burned it down. She was inside."

"Shit…"

"Yeah. Well, let's just say there'd be a big price on my head if they could ever find the guys who did it."

There was silence in the car. The air felt heavy. Two orphans driving to blow up a building and kill everyone inside. Not quite as devious as it sounded. Sam shifted uncomfortably.

"So…what did you learn as your time as a, would apprentice be the right word? Witch apprentice?"

"Good as any, I suppose. I learned basic healing and protection stuff. How to channel the magic energy and anger to make it more powerful."

"Anger and magic don't really mix well, Dev." Shit, did he just give her a nickname? He thought he saw her smile briefly out of the corner of his eye.

"I agree, but if you use the energy you're putting into resolving your anger into your magic also, it makes it stronger, but not dark. True anger with no resolution breeds darkness."

"You have a lot to be angry about."

"So do you, Sam. Murdered parents. Damned brother. Vessel of Lucifer. Demon's bargaining chip. You already got folk songs about you."

"So? What makes me so special?"

"Nothing."

Okay, that he didn't expect. Maybe he'd been fishing just a little bit. He had saved the world, a couple times by now. Maybe he deserved a little praise, but he felt awkward just accepting it. Why didn't Devi think he deserved it?

"What would you have done if you hadn't have joined me?"

"The same thing, but without you."

"That'd be suicide."

"What have I got to live for anymore? This is a suicide mission anyways. Now I just have someone to split the gas money with. And bombs."

"Dev, don—"

"Don't what? Don't say I have nothing to live for? Sam, you saw what they did to me. You think hearing it was painful? Try living it. Every time I close my eyes I see the cans of lighter fluid. The eyes of the guard who raped me. Repeatedly. Every fucking night. The hands of the levi who put cigarettes out on my thighs. And I feel it all over again. Under my clothes I look like a monster too now. And what I said about channeling your anger? They stripped that away from me. It's just soaked into my bones. I don't want to be a monster, I just want to be free."

"Dev—"

"Don't call me Dev."

She stared forward, refusing to meet his eyes when he turned to her, "I'm sorry."

"Just do me a favor, give me a hunter's funeral when I die. And don't let anything eat me."

* * *

Time ran differently here, but Castiel was sure it was night again. He'd heard Edmund go out to hunt for the night and a howl a short while later. He examined the weapon in his hand. A short wooden stake, the tip was covered in silver. It dripped down the rest of the stake like candle wax, but he'd managed to make the tip nice and sharp.

"Cas?" the other voice sounded small and weak.

"Yes, Dean?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I understand you have the emotional consistency of hugging a porcupine."

Dean frowned, but he knew the angel was right. "Can I come sit by you, its cold."

"You don't need to ask, but yes." He made room for Dean in front of the fire.

Dean sat down, and looked at Cas, who still stared at the fire like he was looking for answers to appear in it. He reached his bandaged hand over to Castiel's on the ground, and put it over the angels. Castiel looked him in the eyes for the first time since they'd been put in the cellar. The glassy greens were a swirl of emotion. Fear, confusion, need. Castiel simply wrapped his hand around Dean's softly, and stroked his thumb over the top of his hand.

"We'll make it out. We always do somehow."

**A/N:** hey everyone, so glad you're enjoying it so far. I'd love to know what more of you think and where you'd like things to go! I'll keep trying to update every other day, it can get hard with my work schedule. Devi is an original character completely and totally made up. any resemeblence to persons living or dead is purely coincidental and she's way to cool or brave to be me. so yep. that's it. enjoy!


	8. Chapter 8

The car was filled with laughter as they roared out of the parking lot of stop number three on their own Mission Impossible. They could hear fire trucks in the distance nearing, but there was nothing left to save or put out. Devi mixed borax into the sprinkler system and set it off. Sam filled the halls with explosives. They started the night in a solemn mood, unsure of what they were going into, if they were going to come back. But as they sped along country roads laughing to themselves, it was clear that the fires scorching away any existence of the monsters were cleansing their battered souls. Devi's wide mouth was pulled up into a smile. Sam ran an adrenaline shaking hand through his hair.

"Damn, Winchester. That was a close one!" She giggled and shook her head.

"I told you to get out; they were pretty pissed about that borax!"

"It's really fun watching them dissolve; it's like watching one of those time-lapse-decomposition clips."

"It is pretty cool," he laughed but after a moment he stopped and adopted a more serious tone, "But really, Dev. Please don't do that again."

She brushed him off, still smiling, "Gotta die sometime, man!"

"I can't do it alone, Dev. I ne—" A swift punch to the arm shut him up and caused them to swerve on the empty road "What the hell, didn't anyone ever tell you not to hit the driver?"

Her face as serious now too, "Don't ever say what you were about to. We're never going to talk about this again, and if you ever say it again, you will be dead before you finish."

He felt foolish. He had to admit, they'd been having a lot of fun. Slaying levi, hustling pool tables together, playing chess when neither of them could sleep. The second factory had been good practice, the third had been a close one, but they'd both made it out. But when he got no response from her radio as he ran from the raging, melting levi he feared the worst. He'd screamed into the walkie to get out; he had to blow the building. There was no response. He made it to the car, slamming the trigger he'd rigged to detonate them all at once. The building exploded from within. There was a levi caught in the rubble, snarling and snapping it's vicious jaws at Sam. Before he could go take care of it, Devi stepped out of the smoke and swiftly decapitated it. He'd never been more happy to see a head roll at him in his life. There was a smile on her face as she walked, covered in dust and blood towards the car. She kicked the head at space between two parking spot signs. "GOAL!" she screamed as she jumped up and down. They both started laughing and couldn't stop. He realized how much her companionship meant to him.

Moments like that made him forget about what she'd been through. They shared a common bond of having everyone they loved being taken away. It hurt him deep, but he managed to push on. Devi had that taken away from her now, all that was left was revenge, or so she said. Moments like that showed him there was still happiness left in her. Although, the brutality of kicking a severed head hard enough to make a goal between two signs kind of put the remaining happiness into perspective.

But he'd been saved from Lucifer, from demon blood, from soullessness, from Hell. Maybe he could save Devi from this.

She sat in the passenger seat cleaning her machete.

Maybe.

* * *

"Are you ready?"

"It's not like I have any more time to prepare, Cas."

"Good point."

Dean was huddled near the low fire, pretending to sleep. He wrapped his body around the silver tipped stake. It was warm in his hands; the wood had been smoothed by Castiel's fire hardening. He admired the unstained wood for the last time. Castiel sat at next to him, waiting. He wouldn't put up a fight when Edmund came down to take them away, until he came close enough to grab for Dean to run a silver tipped stake through his werewolf heart. Edmund's partner was a different story, they hadn't seen him, they had no idea what or whom they were up against. The sound of the latch unclicking made Dean's heart beat faster. He hoped Eddy's wolfy ears didn't pick it up.

"Oh Castiel, it's time to go" the wolf crooned as he walked down the stairs.

"I'm ready."

He sat staring at the fire, Edmund walked closer. Castiel could smell the blood of a fresh kill on his clothes.

"What a good little angel, no crying or blubbering. I expect that'll come later though. I'm definitely going to do things to make your Winchester cry." He set a hand on Cas's shoulder. Castiel reached up faster and stronger then humanly possible, and yanked him over his body to the ground. His head hit the stone of the fireplace. Blood poured into the ashes as his hair gave off an acrid burning scent. Dean jumped to his feet and kneeled on Edmunds chest. The man looked up in terror.

"You really didn't think you could pull one over on us, did you Eddy?"

"Please!" He sobbed.

Dean was hearing none of it. He drove the stake through Edmund Wolcott's chest. The wolfman withered in front of his eyes.

"That was easier than anticipated," the angel noted.

"Ed?" a voice from upstairs called, "What's taking so long?"

They heard him sniff the air as he walked down the crude steps. He lunged on Dean upon seeing the dead body of his partner. The stake clattered to the ground and the tore at Dean's face with his sharp hands. Dean had the wind knocked out of him by the force. The other man was growling, he was turning. Castiel picked up the stake and jumped at the tussling pair. A paw shoved him away, leaving deep slices in his shirt, the flowed freely, staining the impossibly pristine white shirt. Dean's nose as surely broken. There was a large gash slicing across his face, over his lips. Castiel stood up again, and charged the wolfman. Dean rolled away, spitting out a mouth full of blood. He groped after the stake, taking it in his broken hands, and standing on wobbly legs. Castiel kicked the man in the stomach, and Dean took the momentary pause in fighting to fall into the wolf, stake first, driving through his back into his heart. He disintegrated on top of Castiel, who pushed off the corpse. He sat up, looking at his bleeding companion. Dean smiled a broken, blood stained smile at him.

"Now what?"


	9. Chapter 9

There were stars falling from the sky the first time he saw the angel. Or at least that's what it looked like to him. They rained down upon him, and he just walked through them, nothing could hurt him. His mind flashed to a gaping mouth of teeth and blackness. That could hurt him. He swung his arms, he hit something. If it got him, fine. But he wasn't let it get Cas. He couldn't. He kept swinging. Something hit him hard in his face, he felt his healing lip split back open and the pain jarred him awake.

"Dean!"

The green eyes darted around looking for his attacker, he tried to sit up. He couldn't. Castiel was on his chest, pinning his arms down.

"Dean, it's okay," the angel said, he had a cut on his cheek. So that's what he'd hit. Shit. He could taste blood in his mouth. "You opened your wound, you were having a nightmare."

"I didn't mean to—I-I'm sorry I socked you in the face."

"It's alright. I'm sorry I had to hit you back."

"Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Are you going to get off of me now?" He wanted the angel off for other reasons then him being heavy, he was more than a little aroused at the being panting on top of him.

"Oh, yes. Sorry." He rolled off. He handed Dean a cup of water. It tasted sweet. He made a confused face, and before he could ask, "There's honey in it. I figured it would make the honey last a little longer and keep you fed as well as hydrated."

"Thanks, man."

The water tasted like Castiel's lips had. This really wasn't helping the situation. He tried to shove the feelings back, he always tried. But he couldn't anymore.

Castiel was busy pouring over roughly drawn maps of the land. Dean stood up off of Edmunds bed, they'd stayed in the cabin. It seemed like the only choice. He walked up behind the angel, he wanted to reach out and touch him, but he couldn't bring himself too.

"Cas, can we talk?"

"About?" he turned to face Dean, his eyes looked sorrowful, and his lips, Dean noticed looked so soft.

"I shouldn't have said…like, everything I said to you. I know you did your best, Cas. I just—I'm angry I couldn't do anything to save you, or Sam, or Bobby, or even my own shitty self. You did everything you could."

"De—"

"I'm not done. I do care about you. and I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he said softly. Dean's hand reached out to Cas's hip. But the angel abruptly turned away, his hand fell back to his side. "I think I have a way to get us to a portal."

(BREAK)

He had her Queen in check. There was no way she was going to make it out of this game. She'd beaten them the last three games though. And she was only losing now because of that whole stupid "take a shot for every person of yours that the other captures." Needless to say, drunk chess was not easy and though she could hold her alcohol well, Sam was huge and could take a lot more than her. She traced a finger over a scar on her chest, as she thought about her next move. She saw his eyes follow. She knows he wants her. But she could barely look at her own body without having a panic attack let alone let him touch her. He was handsome, she'd give him that. And he was a lot smarter then she'd thought. If he would have actually finished law school, he'd have been unstoppable. Instead he was playing chess with her, bottle of Jack in hand. Except he wasn't really watching the board anymore. His eyes were tracing over the curve of her body. They stopped at her hips. Her shirt was pulled up just a little, and he could see the pink burn scars. His eyes held such sadness for her. She didn't want his pity. She just wanted his help. Tomorrow they'd get the fourth building. Unfortunately the authorities had caught on to the plants being blown up, so it was going to get even trickier. She'd hurt the words forming on his tongue. He needed her. It was weak of him. He needed his brother back, he needed her. He didn't know how to be alone. Though, to be honest with herself, she hadn't been alone until they got her mom. But she didn't need him. He was just helpful. She was just as good as he was. He respected her, though. And she respected him in turn. She didn't understand his knight-in-shining-armor complex about saving her though. She didn't want to be saved. She didn't care anymore. She wanted to kill levi, and then disappear. She looked at Sam, he was staring at her face, he bit his lip unconsciously.

"You win," she said softly and went and locked herself in the bathroom for the rest of the night. No, she didn't need Sam. But she really wanted Sam.


	10. Chapter 10

"So what's our cover today, FBI?"

"I think they might already be there, it is pretty high profile."

"CIA?"

"What would they be doing?"

"Counter-terrorism?"

"Isn't that what the FBI would be doing?"

"Do I look like I'm in the FBI?"

"Actually, yes," Devi quipped, "You really need a haircut though; you're starting to look like big foot."

"When someone starts hunting me I'll cut it," he was still messing with his tresses in the mirror. Devi laughed silently; he took more time than she did.

They'd laid out the plan for today; no one could get into the SucroCorp factories because of the security systems, designed from within the company. And since no one in the company could be found or contacted, no one could override them. And no one could really figure out why all the doors were refurbished bank vault doors, or why the concrete was so thick and so reinforced, but the police and specialists had given up trying to break in and settled for staking out in front of the factories. They'd managed to hit another factory before security got too thick, but now it was double everywhere.

They walked up to the gates, police waited around with riot shields, the captain stood straight and paced.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Agent Forest," Devi introduced herself, and then motioned to Sam, "Agent Holly." The police chief gave a curt nod as they flipped open falsified badges. "We're here on official business."

"What business? There ain't much to do but wait and see, Agent."

"With all due respect, _sir _I think we know more about the situation than you do."

Sam looked at the woman; she knew how to get her way, and he had to give her that. Somewhere between the one button to open blouse, and the power-bitch face he could see the captain crumbling.

"Fine, fine. What do you want us to do?"

"Just let us handle everything, you can just stay here."

He brushed Devi's hand to get her attention, she paid no mind. She was too busy deviating from the plan.

"Alright, whatever you say, Agents." The captain looked skeptical as he lead them through the gates.

"Wait out there, please. And wait until we come back for further instruction, dismissed."

When they turned the corner of the building and Devi had pulled out her laptop and started working on the electronic locks with intel they and Andy had discovered, Sam just stared at her as she kneeled on the ground.

"Can I help you, Winchester?"

"What the hell were you doing?"

"Changing things."

"Why?"

"Do you really think they'd just leave, without question, without checking in, and not check in on orders, on us when they get back? Are you really that dense, Sam?" She looked at him, annoyed.

She had a point, but still, "Tell me beforehand when you do that shit, what if I had taken over things."

"I wouldn't have let you."

"But wha—"

"You seriously underestimate my determination to blow these toothy bastards to hell. Nothing is going to stand in my way, not the cops, not you, not locks."

The door clicked, the lock had been disengaged. She smiled and slipped the sleek laptop back into her messenger bag. The locks weren't that hard if you had a computer that could decrypt ancient Samarian riddles. She doubted the FBI, CIA, MIB, MI6 or anyone had someone with Andy's level of boredom or paranoia. She and Sam were both glad.

"So we're just going to blow the building with those people out there?"

"No, we're going to fry the levi with borax and then torch the scene with one incendiary, say it was a trip wire leading to a gruesome slaughter. We don't even have to lie that much!" She smiled and waved her machete in the air as if it were a parade baton, hips swinging as she walked ahead of him to the maintenance room.

* * *

They had the maps, when the shrouded star rose they'd be off. Dean pretended to sleep, and watched Castiel stare into the dying coals of the fire with the intensity of a scholar studying a confounding problem. It was probably suicide. Walking into a monster's heavily guarded citadel, finding the throne room, and opening the portal. Not even probably, more like definite. But so was staying here. Starving to death, or being eaten. They had to do something.

"Cas?"

"You should be asleep," he sounded like a stressed parent. Someone with bills piling up, working three jobs, and still not making ends meet, just trying to provide. And in a way he was. Problems and bodies piled up around him. He was an angel, a protector, and faking his death. He was just trying to get Dean home safe, but he probably couldn't even do that in the end. He said it with such an exasperated sigh, Dean's heart hurt.

"Come here."

"Excuse me?" he turned to the hunter, one eyebrow cocked.

"I'm asking you to come here, sit with me. It's cold, I could use another body," he worried it sounded stupid and Castiel would see through it, but the angel rose gracefully and sat next to Dean. "Now lay down." Castiel obliged and laid with his back to Dean, his arm under his head. The hunter wiggled closer and breathed in Castiel's scent. It was so soothing to him. He could feel the warmth from the angel. "Can I put my arm around you?"

"I suppose."

Castiel could feel Dean's breath gently tickling his neck as the firm, warm arm slipped over his chest. He was spooning with Dean Winchester in a root cellar in purgatory. Just before he thought things couldn't get any more impossible, he felt Dean's lips press to the back of his neck.

"Cas, I'm sorry for everything," he muttered softly between kisses.

"Dean, you don't have to do this," the arm tightened around him when he began to pull away.

"You were right."

"About?"

"How I feel."

"Oh."

"We'll make it out, both of us. And we'll figure this out."

"Why the change of heart? It's very unlike you."

"Not a change of heart, Cas. Just realized life's too short, especially lives like mine, to deny yourself things."

"I will make sure you live a long life, Dean Winchester."

"I'm holding you to that one, angel boy."

He nipped at the nape of Cas' neck gently before placing a final kiss and drifting off to sleep.


	11. Chapter 11

"They're going to wonder why our clothes are all fucked up."

"I think that's the last thing they'll be thinking about, Sam." She said as she poured the concentrated borax into the emergency water tank. It hooked into the building's fire hoses and sprinkler systems. The sprinkler system would set off outside alarms and make the police aware of something going on before they were ready. With the hose they could damage the whole nest before finishing them off with their machetes.

It had been consistent in every factory, the levi slept in the cafeteria. They were a pack monster, Sam guessed. Devi just appreciated the ease of finding them. She practically skipped down the halls following the signs. She was smiling and excited. She stopped to twirl around a pillar, she fell into Sam's chest, laughing. He loved her happiness, even if it was temporary.

"I probably shouldn't laugh so loud. Hell hath no fury like a hibernating leviathan," she giggled and mimed zipping her lips and looked up at Sam who smiled back at her. "What are you smiling about, Winchester?"

"You," he said without hesitation. Fear flickered behind his eyes and she pushed out of his arms, but he grabbed her wrist gently. "Dev—" and suddenly he was pushed against the wall, arms pinned by her strong hands. He could over power her, but he was too curious to see what was going to happen. She looked him dead in the eyes for a moment. He saw a universe of anger, hurt, and fear in them. But he also saw a hint of longing and need. She leaned forward on her tiptoes and kissed him passionately. She smelled like cinnamon and gun oil, and she wasted no time before her tongue flicked out against his lips and he obliged her request. But then suddenly the heat was gone, and she was back to skipping away towards the cafeteria. He stood against the wall, stunned, arms still where they had been held, trying to figure out what happened.

* * *

They stumbled through the half dark. Dean held tight to the stake they'd made and Castiel lead the way with his hand drawn map. They hadn't said anything in the hours since they'd left Edmund's cabin. But if they kept this pace they'd be at the portal in two days. Dean was the first one to say anything.

"Are we going to talk about it?"

"Talk about what, Dean?"

"Last night," he grunted as he tripped over a fallen log.

"There's nothing to talk about. I merely provided body heat and companionship in your hour of need."

"Castiel that's bullshit."

Castiel stopped dead and Dean ran into him, but it was like colliding with a wall and he fell back a few steps. The angel turned to the hunter, and Dean could see even in this light there was anger in his eyes.

"What's bullshit, Dean Winchester, are your inconsistent feelings. You hate me, you love me. You want me, you don't. So please, tell me, when is the next part of that coming?"

"Cas, come on. This is new to me!" he defended, Castiel turned and kept walking. Dean ran forward and grabbed his shoulder, "Listen to me, please. I know I'm a douchebag, trust me I am well aware. But I realized something, Cas. You've never given up on me, even after the horrible things I've done and said to you. I took you for granted and you deserved none of it. You deserve, god this sound so corny…You deserve my full heart."

The shoulder under his hand relaxed a bit and the angel turned back to him. Dean couldn't help himself, he just leaned out and kissed Castiel. It was gentle and tender. But the angel smiled.

"Let's make it through Purgatory with our hearts in our chests first, and then you can give me yours."

His hand slipped down and claimed Dean's free hand. And they continued walking to something that would almost certainly be their death.

* * *

Sam held the hose in both hands, and Devi reached up to lock the door into an open position. She turned the hose on, and they waited for a few agonizing seconds for the borax spiked water to begin to flow. All Sam could think about was the kiss. It'd come from nowhere. He wasn't complaining, but he wanted another one. And that was something that wasn't going to happen. Suddenly the hose kicked back like a shotgun and the water sprayed forth and the shrieks of the beasts could be heard.

"Party time!"

Sam sprayed back and forth, making sure to get them all good. At first they were too confused to react beyond howling. But when a couple started to charge, Devi cut off their heads with the brutality of a Spartan and the grace of a ballerina. Water and leviathan blood coated the ground. The levi in their dress shoes slipped and slid in their dress shoes, and Devi's tennis shoes held her steady as she decimated them. Sam could feel the water sputtering out, and he threw down the hose and ran to turn it off before grabbing his machete. He watched Devi cleave a pretty blonde leviathan's head in half and it took his breath away. She was like a panther with her grace and viciousness. She wasn't a fire cracker, she was a stick of dynamite.

Together they finished off the batch. By now their swings were perfected and they worked like a well oiled machine.

They placed the charges and walked back to the door they had broken in through.

"Show time," she smiled as she pressed the detonator and ran from the shuttering building now belching smoke, screaming at the police to get out and call the fire department. The blast knocked them down, and he looked up to see her smiling at him, scrape on her forehead tricking blood. He thought he might be in love with her.


End file.
